Danny Phantom of the Opera
by Hepunshethra
Summary: Danny, Tucker, Sam, Jazz, Jack, and Maddie go to check out an old abandoned opera house at the edge of town. So, what happens when Danny's curiosity leads him into a situation from which he cannot escape? The story of Danny Phantom of the Opera unfolds!
1. Mishap in the Opera House

Chapter 1: Mishap in the Opera House

"Goooood morning Amity Park! It's currently nine a.m. with cloudy skies and a chance for thunderstorms…."

Danny Fenton turned off his alarm radio as he awoke. He stretched his arms up for a few moments as he yawned after a good night's sleep; strangely, he had been given the night off from fighting ghosts of any kind, but that didn't worry him one bit. He was glad that his enemies had taken a break from reeking destruction, allowing him to catch up on some much-needed rest.

Danny sat up in his bed, wearing pale blue pajamas, as he remembered that it was Saturday. No school and no homework meant that there was more time for him to hang out with Sam Manson and Tucker Foley, his two best friends and loyal ghost fighting mates.

"It's Saturday! That means that today's the day that Sam, Tuck, and I get to go check out that old opera house at the edge of town!" Excitement took him over extremely quick, and he soon found himself face to face with the floor.

Even though he was never fond of opera music, he wanted a closer look at the place because of the mysticism that never ceased to surround it. Plus, there was an old legend about a ghostly figure that used to plague the staff and members of the opera house back in the late 1800's.

Danny rose to his feet with ease as he rubbed his aching nose before rapidly changing his clothes. He tossed on his usual pair of white spotted red boxers, his pair of blue jeans, his white socks, his white and red T-shirt, and his red and white sneakers that he had pulled out the night before and left lying on his dresser. He combed through his shiny black hair with much haste, then stormed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he was doing so, his sister, Jazz, peered in through the doorway. She was wearing the normal clothes she always did; cerulean blue capris, a black long-sleeved shirt, black shoes, and her usual blue headband that sat in her yellow-orange hair.

"Danny, are you almost ready? Sam and Tucker are almost here… By the way, mom and dad are also coming so…." She gazed up as she said it, being too embarrassed to look her brother in the eyes.

Danny's jaw nearly hit the floor and his tone reached a more tense state. "What do you mean _they're_ coming? Why can't they just stay away for once?" Jazz just shrugged, then left him alone and went downstairs. Danny soon followed, walking into the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat before going out. Just then his parents, Jack and Maddie, raced into the kitchen, taking Danny by surprise and causing him to almost choke on his pancakes.

Jack was very heavy-set, and wore his usual orange and black jumpsuit filled with small hidden ecto-shooting gadgets. His black hair was graying as it reached around his neck, and his deep green eyes gazed upon his son. He held one of his usual inventions in his large hands. Maddie had a blue and black jumpsuit on herself, her brown hair just touching the area where it wrapped around her neck. Her deep blue eyes were on her husband, making sure he didn't do anything unintelligently with the weapon.

"Danny! I hear that you and your friends are going to a haunted opera house. Me and your mom are going to come along with you guys to make sure you kids are safe!" blurted Jack, as he accidentally activated his ecto-gun in excitement. He starred blankly at the new hole in the wall for a second before shouting out again. "We are going to wait in the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle for you kids!" He said no more as he glared at his wife who was annoyed with him. A small smirk appeared upon his face, but disappeared as he looked away.

Maddie and Jack stormed out of the house just as Sam and Tucker entered the Fenton household and walked up to Danny in the kitchen, looking back at the open front door. Sam then turned around and looked at him, while crossing her arms and looking a bit annoyed herself. "I can't believe _they_ have to come with us! For once, can't they _not_ get involved in anything that has to do with ghosts?"

Sam was a Goth, so she usually wore some of her hair up in a messy ponytail while the rest hugged her face and fell just above the black choker around her neck. A black tank top rose above her stomach just slightly, exposing her belly button, and a black skirt with green stripes didn't even make its way to her knees. She wore purple tights that disappeared within her black army boots, and a black bracelet on each wrist completed her outfit. Even so, she was Danny's best friend through it all.

Tucker nodded in agreement. "It seems like they are becoming more annoying each time we do something that involves ghosts."

Tucker, on the other hand, was a techno-geek. He would carry around loads of geek gear within his purple backpack; PDA's, beepers, you name it. He wore a yellow long-sleeved shirt, which lay over a black belt that held up his bulky camouflage green pants that had a large pocket sewn onto each leg. Large brown boots finished his everyday attire. Tucker helped Danny out several times during his ghostly battles.

Danny rose from his chair and started to head out, and Sam and Tucker followed. "Well, you know that's… what they do and even though I wish they would lay off…."

He was interrupted by the sound of thunder. As they walked outside, a strange feeling overcame him; a feeling he felt when something horrible was going to occur. He became a bit nervous and unsure about the whole trip all of a sudden, so Sam tried to calm him down by putting her hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry Danny! Everything will be fine."

Jazz budded in without warning. "By the way, why weren't you out hunting ghosts last night? It's not like you to abandon your duties like that!"

Danny looked at her with a puzzled look. "I don't know why, but none of my enemies were out causing any trouble. Maybe they're… just…taking a break?"

There was no response from anyone as rain began to fall like spears from the heavens. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Danny hurried inside the Assault Vehicle and soon found themselves 'flying' their way to the abandoned opera house. As Jack drove like a maniac, Danny looked out the window as the rain fell harder. There was a long moment of silence before Jazz spoke up again.

"Why is it that you're going to this place again? I mean, it's old and abandoned, and it's not as if _you_ would be interested in anything opera-related."

Danny immediately rebutted with a ghost hunting adventure tale. "Well, on Sunday when I was chasing after the Box Ghost again, we flew past the opera house. He stopped to turn and stare at it…. I have no clue as to why he would just do that. I could have sworn I heard a ticking clock. Anyway, he looked really upset for whatever reason, and turned back to me and said something along the lines of 'Beware, for _this_ place shall lead to your _doooommm_!' and then I just sucked him up in the thermos."

There was a short pause before he spoke again. "Maybe I should have told you this before, when you asked for the reason I was so interested…."

Tucker replied, "Well, maybe he knew something about the legend that we clearly don't yet…."

Jazz interrupted again. "What legend?"

Danny was taken back. His sister usually knew anything and everything there was to know, but it now seemed that there was one thing that she lacked the knowledge of. "You mean, _you_ don't know about the legend?" Jazz just shook her head, indicating that she would like to hear more about it. So, Tucker stepped in to explain further.

"It was back in the 1800's sometime, I think around 1881, when the opera house was in its peak performance. Many people had told stories about a phantom that roamed the building, using it as his home, but no one truly believed that. Then, some strange things started to happen; shadowy figures would be seen frequently, a few people were hanged, voices could be heard out of nowhere…."

Jazz became absorbed within the whole thing, listening intently to each word that Tucker was saying. It was truly an intriguing story, but she had her doubts about the authenticity of it.

"…. And the most mysterious of all was the prized chandelier that hung above the stage…. One day it just fell for no reason and crashed onto the stage, breaking in all sorts of pieces, and so the legend goes…."

From up front, Jack had been listening in as well. He almost ran into a fire hydrant because of it. "Legend or not, I am going to find that ghost and _capture_ him, then _dissect_ him… molecule by molecule!"

Out of nowhere, Maddie exclaimed, "We're here!"

Jack chimed in as he brought the 'RV' to a halt. "We're here? _We're here_!" He became so excited that he shot out of the 'RV' and nearly crashed right into the opera house. Maddie followed, while Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Danny stepped out and came up from behind. Just as they approached the boarded-up doors that Jack was now breaking down, Danny immediately came to a halt as he glared up at the building, almost in a hypnotized state. The rain was still coming down hard, and the sky became darker.

"Are you all right?" Sam had stopped and turned her head to look at Danny. Tucker came up from behind, his hands shaking just slightly.

"Man, Danny, this place _does_ give me the creeps. Mamamamaaaaybababeeee this isn't such a ga-good idea after all…." He looked blankly at the broken windows for a few seconds before Jack yelled out and took them both out of their trances.

"Let's go kids! I can feel it…. This place is _crawling_ with ghosts!"

"Whatever," Jazz replied, as she followed Maddie into the building. Danny, Sam, and Tucker soon followed. Upon entering the mysterious opera house, they were taken back by the mysticism and eerie beauty the whole place seemed to emit. A large and elegant staircase sat in front of them, marvelous broken and intact statues stood here and there throughout the large entryway. Several small chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, most of them missing crystals and candleholders. Everything had cobwebs and many inches of dust covering them, but the brilliance was all still present.

The whole group then ventured up the grand staircase without speaking a word or making the smallest sounds, except for an occasional 'ooh' or 'ah'. Jack and Maddie had their ghost weapons held tightly, but the amazing sights before them weakened their guard. They all soon found themselves entering the grandest and most spectacular room of all: the theatre. The height of it couldn't be told by just one look for it was hard to see the beautiful and breathtaking dusty-covered and fading art and carvings on the ceiling. The handiwork continued all along the walls and edges of the seating areas, but time had turned them into ghosts of their former selves. More dust and cobwebs nearly hid the seats from view, but the group could tell that they wouldn't hold much weight anymore. High above the still in tact orchestra pit hung a gorgeous, yet simple chandelier that didn't seem to fit the age or the elegance of the opera house. The old stage seemed to tell of magnificent past performances, but also of grave events that haunted the whole decaying structure.

They took a quick look around the area before Danny's attention became centered at a strange room behind the worn out stage. As though being pulled by an invisible rope, he walked slowly over to the stage and climbed on top of it. He began to creep his way along it, as creaking sounds were made each time he stepped on the old floorboards. A few seconds later he was standing in front of the door, budging it slightly ajar, and peering into the dimly lit room. The small amount of light coming in from the flashes of lightning through the cracks in the ceiling revealed some old props, costumes, and sets. They still held their old charm. In the back of the room was a huge object covered in a dusty, deteriorating sheet, next to what seemed like a covered organ of some kind, with a box sitting on the floor next to that. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz soon appeared behind Danny. Jack and Maddie were staking out another portion of the theatre.

They tried to get a glance at what Danny was looking at. Danny didn't even notice that they were behind him at all; he was too awe-struck and curious by the strange objects. He soon opened the door completely, it emitting a loud creak as he did.

"Oh… my…." Sam, Tucker, and Jazz said in unison. They themselves were also speechless.

"I don't like this place…. It's filled with a disturbing vibe… and I'm usually the one who likes this sort of stuff…." Sam rambled on as Danny approached the old organ. He took off the sheet, getting years of built-up dust in his face. As it cleared, he glared at it, keyboard and pipes, as Tucker walked over and pressed a key. It emitted an eerie and almost hypnotic note.

Tucker was amazed and frightened. "Wwooooooe…."

Jazz cautiously made her way over to the large covered object to the left of the old organ. As she did, Danny eyed the box once again, and bent down and picked it up. He observed it and almost immediately took a huge interest. Outside, the lightning began to flash more frequently and the thunder became louder. In the distance the voices of Jack and Maddie could be heard, but barely.

The box was very old and could be made out as foreign. On the top was a monkey dressed in a Persian robe, holding two dusty cymbals. Deep red velvet covered the main body of the box. On the underside was some type of inscription, so Danny read it out loud.

"'The Phantom shall be reborn again, and the same life he shall live. The cycle shall only be broken, when the song at heart he shall give.'" Danny starred at the mysterious riddle for a few seconds before Sam interrupted his concentration.

"That sounds more like a prophecy than anything Danny! I-i-i… I think you should put that down and…." She was interrupted by Jazz's ear piercing shriek. The large sheet was crumpled up on the floor next to the object it had hid. She had been frightened by what she had just discovered.

"Uh… Danny? You might want to check this out!" The dusty, old sheet had just been removed and underneath was a large broken chandelier!

Danny quickly turned to face it, and was astonished by what they were now looking at. He nearly dropped the mysterious box and jumped several feet backwards. "That's the chandelier from the legend!"

Tucker became even more frightened. "You don't think the whole legend is…" He gulped. "… True?"

Danny turned his attention back to the box and flipped it over so it was upright again. He then gazed at it for a few seconds with growing curiosity. Sam looked at it then at Danny. She pointed at it, while she stated, "Are you going to open that?"

Danny hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath before proceeding to lift the hinge and open the box. By now, Jack and Maddie's banter could no longer be heard over the increasing volume and frequency of the thunder.

As he lifted the lid all the way up, a hypnotic type of sweet sounding music began to play. It was a strange music box that apparently still worked.

Jazz cracked a small smile, as the music seemed to be getting to her. "That's such a sweet little tune…. Hey, what's that?" She was pointing at a white object at the bottom of the box. Danny saw it as well, and decided to take it out. "Wow, it looks like some type of mask…."

"That's the same mask as described to have been found after the Phantom 'vanished'!" Sam seemed to now be horrified: something that no one would have guessed that she would get at these types of things. After all, she was a Goth, and was best friends with a ghost boy.

Tucker began to quake where he stood. "Can we_ please_ go find your parents and get out of here… _Now_!?"

Jazz, Tucker, and Sam turned around and began to walk towards the old doorway when a scream reached out from behind them. At once, they all turned around and shouted. "_Danny_!"

Danny was just standing there with his back towards them as the mask started to glow an eerie green and float in thin air. It was facing him, but then turned around and latched itself onto his face. Danny began to struggle, trying to get the mask off. Sam and Tucker ran up to him, but were thrown back by a force field that had suddenly formed. His screams became so loud that even Jack and Maddie could hear him from the old seats in the theatre. They stopped in their tracks and turned towards the room. Maddie became extremely terrified and upset, and immediately grabbed Jack by the front of his jumpsuit, nearly choking him. "Jack, that sounded like Danny! He's in trouble! We have to help him!"

She let go as Jack gathered his breath back. He couldn't agree more or even be any more worried. "Hang on Danny, we're coming for ya!" They quickly ran towards their son's screams.

Back in the room, the mask wouldn't even budge. Within a minute, Danny's struggling stopped and he could no longer move or scream, nor had any control over his actions. The force field had become more powerful than ever, so Sam, Tucker, and Jazz couldn't do anything to help. They stood in horror as Danny began to float, and turned to face them. They gasped in terror as they saw a changed Danny. The mask was on his face but good, and it began to glow again, this time a frightening white and along with Danny. A bright light filled the room, blinding the other three.

Just then, Jack and Maddie barged into the room, aiming their ghost weapons at the source of the light as it faded. When it had completely diminished, they dropped their weapons in both shock and horror. "_Danny_!?"

Tucker began explaining, but was barely able to speak. "The mask…it just…attached to his face…and…and…."

He could not say anymore. Along with the others, his jaw dropped as they all starred at a transformed Danny. His clothes had changed; he was now wearing a dark gray suit, with a long black cape around his neck that fell to his feet. His lush blue eyes had turned an angry red, which had caused Maddie to faint, and Sam to start crying. Tucker just stood there in a gaze, while Jack caught Maddie and looked horrified himself. Jazz began to shake a bit, covering her mouth up, afraid that she would let out a blood-curdling scream. A strange voice came from Danny; it seemed more mature and darker.

"**The Phantom **_**has been**_** reborn again, and the same life over **_**I**_** shall live. The cycle shall only be broken, when the song at heart **_**I **_**shall give**! _**Aaahahahahaaa**_…! _**Aahahahaaa**_…!"

As he said this he began to transform again, this time into his ghost form. His hair turned snow white, while the suit now lay over his white and black jumpsuit. His eyes stayed the same color, but now they began to glow. He swooped down and picked up the music box and opened it once again, aiming it at the others. This time, the music became more violent and faster, while a strange greenish light appeared within it. It became bigger and soon a portal was opening within the box. It started to suck Jack in first, then an unconscious Maddie, followed by Jazz. Once they had disappeared completely, Tucker became the next victim, with Sam left just standing there alone, filled with horror, shock, worry, disbelief, and confusion. As she began to be pulled in, she snapped back and started to yell.

"Danny! _Help_!" She looked up into Danny's eyes, but saw nothing but an evil presence. She began to scream again as she disappeared into the portal, her shrieks fading until they could no longer be heard. Danny closed the box, intending to open it one more time.

"**Long live Danny Phantom of the Opera**!" With those words, he opened the box back up and entered the portal. The box dropped to the floor as the portal vanished, once again playing that sweet melody.

--------------

Oblivious to them all, someone had been watching their every move. Back in the Ghost Zone, Clockwork, the Master of Time, was viewing this whole scene in his time warp. He looked like a young man in his 30's, except with the lower half of a grandfather clock embedded within his chest. He had no legs; a ghostly tail was all that was there. In his hands he held a long purple staff, with a clock on the top. A purple cloak hung from around his neck, and a hood covered his blue face that held a black scar on his left eye.

"This isn't good at all." The Observants were there as well, watching in horror. They were the 'bosses' of Clockwork, able to tell him what to do.

"How is the boy going to escape this one?" said one of the Observants. Another replied, "Clockwork, unless he gains complete control of himself and solves the cursed riddle…. Even _you_ can't interfere _this_ time!"

Clockwork nodded in both agreement and disappointment. "My powers cannot touch that of the mask…. That's why I told the Box Ghost to warn him right then and there, but he didn't heed the warning…. Then I prevented any of his enemies from bothering him by freezing them in time, in order for him to figure out that something about the opera house was amiss… His curiosity just grew with that place ever since he had heard the legend… And now, it just grew to a dangerous level… Unless Danny breaks it himself, his friends, family and he will be trapped within that 1881 cycle… The story of the Phantom of the Opera!"


	2. The Lurking Chaos

Chapter 2: The Lurking of Chaos

Commotion echoed throughout the empty theatre of a brilliant opera house. The elegance of it all was beyond what words could describe; carvings by hand majestically circled the walls and support beams, while the cleanliness suggested a well-beloved and cared for architectural wonder. Solid gold lined areas here and there, creating a spectacular sight when exposed to illumination. Along the left and right walls were several observation boxes numbered one through six, where the wealthier would view performances: numbers five and six closest to the stage. The stage was beautifully centered and faced the audience currently made up of empty seats. Along the edge was a series of large sections that each held a candle to light up the area. In between was a lowered section specifically made for the pit orchestra to play in when the time arrived. Above it all hung the most gorgeous and breath-taking chandelier of its time; the purest of fine crystal dangled from the gold framing around brass, the arms of which to hold lit candles breaking free of the magnificent objects. There were two levels of flickering candles that illuminated the whole room. My, what a job it must have been to light all of those day after day, night after night at such a high altitude: forty-three feet from floor to ceiling to be exact. It was one of the most prized possessions of the opera house, the other being the cast and crew that kept it all together.

A rehearsal was underway on the stage for a new production. A womanly figure walked out onto center stage from the sidings carrying a prop in the form of a bleeding severed head. Her attire consisted of the most elegant and brilliant red dress that would move slightly from side to side when she moved. On the chest area there was a magnificent green design that shimmered in the light. She wore golden bracelets with the finest of diamonds and sapphires that alternated in the most brilliant of ways, and a golden necklace that embraced her neck just right with one of the purest of emeralds embedded tightly in a golden pendant that dangled from it. Her orange hair was up in such a way that curls bounced in the air with every bit of movement. She was definitely one of the higher class. Her teal eyes glared down at the floor as though she was trying to gain control over her stance. The expressions implanted on her delicate face confirmed this all too well. What possessed her so? She seemed to resemble Jasmine Fenton….

The young mistress looked back up and began to sing opera. She progressed to the front of the stage, stage right, and sang in a wonderful manner. "This trophy from our saviours, from our sa-a-a-aviors, from the enslaving fo-orce o-of RO-O-O-O-O-O-OME!" A stagehand could be seen carrying a ladder across in the back round, while others could be seen still constructing parts of the scenery. From the pit, the conductor gracefully moved his baton up and down, side to side, as he kept with the rhythm and beat of the music being brilliantly performed by the orchestra nearly hidden from view.

Back on the stage the choir of dancers from the ballet entered from both sides, meeting in the middle and swiftly dancing up the stage. The girls wore costumes similar to that of the mistress singing, but lacked the full dress. Instead, a skirt made entirely of red and green beaded material made up the bottom half of the costume. They also wore pink tights and Pointe, or toe, shoes. The men were in ancient-style clothing as they helped welcome home a war hero and his army. The girls began to sing with excitement. "With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebra-ation, we greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salva-ation!" The guys took over in the celebration as they danced around the stage with delight. "The trumpets of Carthage resound! Hear, Romans, now and tre-emble! Hark to the steps on the ground!" All vocal parts joined together in triumph, as the war hero entered the scene. "Hear the dru-u-u-ums! Haannibal CO-O-O-O-O-O-OMES!"

An overweight man in ancient battle armor representing Hannibal had stumbled his way through the crowd of dancers and was now on center-stage. His nose seemed larger than normal and his dull green eyes glanced straight out into the theatre. The metal helmet he wore upon his head covered up his aging black hair. He responded in glory. "Sad to return to find the land we-e lo-ove threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching gra-asp."

From the siding, a tall figure made his way over to 'Hannibal' and interrupted him anxiously. "Signor… if you please: 'Rome'. We say 'Rome', not 'Roma'." He was on the slim side, as his clothes barely fit him. Long side burns ran down the sides of his face, and his black hair was thinning and turning to gray, but still present. His brown eyes looked impatiently at 'Hannibal' and his hands held a script to the production. 'Hannibal' looked at the man and immediately answered back. "Si, si. Rome, not Roma. Is very hard for me. Rome… Rome…."

Almost without warning another man walked in on the rehearsal with two others accompanying him from behind. He wore a brilliant suit that stood out in the crowd, and his stomach stuck out like a sore thumb; he was clearly the manager of the opera house and really overweight. His face was a bit triangular with aging blue eyes that were focused on the cast, his gray hair thinning, but still present. To his left followed a lean-looking man also dressed in formal attire. His face was long, but was definitely thinner. His hair, mustache, and beard were black, while showing some signs of aging, and his bright blue eyes gazed at the man in front. The man on the right was certainly heavy built; his body was wide and overall large. He had a more squared face with serene deep green eyes. On the top was black hair, which became grayer as the hairline met its ending point. This one looked identical to Jack Fenton….

The tall figure began to communicate with 'Hannibal' once more. "Once again, then, if you please, Signor: 'Sad to return….'" Turning to the two gentlemen behind him, the manager explained what was happening on stage. "This way, gentlemen, this way. Rehearsals, as you see, are under way for a new production of Chalumeau's 'Hannibal'." He eyed the sources of commotion in the rehearsal, and sensing a hiatus within it, attempted to attract attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, some of you may already, perhaps, have met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin…." Andre and Firmin started to bow politely, but were interrupted abruptly by the tall figure who had become agitated very much so. "I'm sorry, Monsieur Lefevre, we _are_ rehearsing. If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment?" Lefevre immediately spoke up in reply. "My apologies, Monsieur Reyer. Proceed, proceed…." "Thank you Monsieur…." Reyer turned his attention back to 'Hannibal'. "'Sad to return…' Signor…."

Lefevre took Andre and Firmin a few steps aside from the rehearsing cast members. "Monsieur Reyer, our chief repetiteur. Rather a tyrant, I'm afraid." The rehearsal continued through the usual procedures as 'Hannibal' began to sing once more. "Sad to return to find the land we-e lo-ove threatened once more by Rome's far reaching gra-asp. Tomorrow we shall break the chains of Ro-ome. Tonight, rejoice- your army has come home." He then moved over to his left to allow the ballet girls to begin their joyous dance. Lefevre, Andre, and Firmin had somehow managed to place themselves in dead center of the whole thing, and consequently were in the way. Lefevre stood facing the other two, while pointing towards the man representing Hannibal. "Signor Piangi, our principal tenor. He does play so well opposite La Carlotta."

An older woman that was present was becoming increasingly exasperated by the trio's presence. She wore a plain black dress that would drag on the floor as she walked. Her deep blue eyes stared at the three of them, especially Lefevre, and her brown hair embraced her angered face, while her bangs sat just above her eyes. She looked oddly like Madeline Fenton…. She banged her cane angrily on the stage floor. "Gentlemen, please! If you would kindly move to one side?" Lefevre cleared his throat and apologized to her. "My apologies, Madame Giry." Not wanting to stir up anymore disturbances, he quickly led Andre and Firmin aside. "Madame Giry, our ballet mistress. I don't mind confessing, Monsieur Firmin, I shan't be sorry to be rid of the blessed business."

A confused look appeared across Firmin's face at those words. "I keep asking you, Monsieur, why exactly _are_ you retiring?" Lefevre just pretended to not have heard anything he said, and focused directly on the continuing ballet. "We take a particular pride here in the excellence of our ballets."

The ballet rehearsal was going as planned. One girl in particular became very prominent among the rest of the dancers as she gracefully made her way around the stage, never missing a beat. Her golden locks flew behind her as she moved, her pink eyes gleamed in the light. Andre took great note of the girl. "Who's that girl, Lefevre?" Lefevre glared at the brilliant dancer and responded with the utmost pride. "Her? Meg Giry. Madame Giry's daughter. Promising dancer, Monsieur Firmin, most promising."

Another girl had made her presence felt, but because she had absent-mindedly fallen out of step. Her face seemed a bit on the pale side and she looked as though something was troubling her. Her violet eyes gleamed with worry and her black hair bounced around as she tried to get back into step. She resembled Samantha Manson too much…. Giry, spotting her, banged her cane impatiently once more. "You! Christine Daae! Concentrate, girl!" Meg glanced over at her troubled friend and asked her a question quietly as they danced. "Christine… What's the matter?"

Upon hearing Christine's name, Firmin turned back to Lefevre. "Daae? Curious name." Lefevre replied. "Swedish." Andre looked over in the direction of the orchestra pit. "Any relation to the violinist?" Lefevre nodded slightly. "His daughter, I believe. Always has her head in the clouds, I'm afraid."

The ballet continued to its climax and ended as the choir resumed in glorious song. "Bid welcome to Hannibal's guests- the elephants of Carthage! As guides on our conquering guests, Dido sends Hannibal's friends!" A life-sized mechanical replica of an elephant had been guided on stage. Piangi, in triumph, was in the process of being lifted onto its back, but it took a few tries for him to actually make it up there. The young mistress that looked like Jazz sang once more with enthusiasm. "Once more to my welcoming arms my love returns in slendour!" Piangi picked up from there. "Once more to those sweetest of charms my heart and soul surrender." At that time, the choir began up again. "The trumpeting elephants sound- hear, Romans, now and tre-emble! Hark to their steps on the ground- hear the dru-u-u-ums! Hannibal CO-O-O-O-O-O-OMES!"

At the end of the song Lefevre eagerly clapped his hands for silence. The elephant had been led off by two stagehands that were operating it from within the structure. "Ladies and gentlemen- Madame Giry, thank you- may I have your attention please? As you know, for some weeks there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre."

There was some polite applause from the opera members, as well as some bowing. The young lady walked forward like a true Prima Dona to bring the attention upon her. Lefevre kindly introduced her to the new managers. "Gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now." Carlotta acted as though she was flattered by the remark, and Andre approached her to kiss her hand. "Of course, of course. I have experienced all your greatest roles, Signora." Lefevre turned to face Piangi in order to introduce him. "And Signor Ubaldo Piangi." Firmin looked his way. "An honour, Signor."

Andre became a little anxious to hear Carlotta sing. "If I remember rightly, Elissa has a rather fine aria in Act three of 'Hannibal'. I wonder, Signora, if, as a personal favour, you would oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, Monsieur Reyer objects…."

Wanting to jump at any chance to show off, Carlotta immediately spoke up in delight. "My manager commands… Monsieur Reyer?" Reyer looked at her, then at Firmin. "My _diva_ commands. Will two bars be sufficient introduction?" Firmin didn't hesitate to reply at all. "Two bars will be quite sufficient." Ensuring that Carlotta was ready, Reyer addressed her, then gave the orchestra conductor a preparation signal with his left hand. "Signora?" Carlotta made eye contact with the conductor as she proudly prepared to sing. "Maestro?" The conductor signaled over to the pianist to begin the introduction.

"Think of me-e-e, think of me fo-ondly, when we've said goo-oodby-ye. Remember me-e, once in a while, please pro-omise me yo-ou-u'll try. When you fi-ind, that once again you lo-o-ong to take your heart back and be fre-e-e if you ever find a mo-o-oment, spare a thought for me-e-e! We never sa-a-aid our love was evergree-een, or as unchanging as the se-e-ea, but if you can sti-I-ill re-eme-ember-er, stop and think of me-e-e! Think o-o-o-of all the things we've sha-ared and see-ee-een- don't think abou-out the wa-ay thi-ings mi-i-ight have bee-e-en… Think of me-e-e, think of me wa-aking, si-ilent and re-esi-I-igned. Imagine me-e-e, trying to hard to pu-ut you from my-y mi-i-ind. Recall those da-a-ays, look back on all those ti-imes, think of the things we'll never do-o-o- there will never be-e-a a da-ay, whe-en I-I wo-on't think o-of you-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou-ou! Flowers fa-a-ade, the fruits of summer fa-a-ade, they have their sea-ea-easo-ons so do we-e-e-e- but plea-ease promise me-e-e that so-o-ometi-imes, you will thi-ink o-o-o-o-o-o-o-of o-o-o-o-o-o-o-of o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-of, O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-OF ME-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E!"

Right after the diva finished her great aria, a backdrop mysteriously crashed to the floor without any warning whatsoever, cutting her off from half the cast. Every ballet-choir member gasped in shock, and Carlotta herself let out a loud and terrified shriek. They were all baffled and completely horrified.

"Oh my God, he's here!" "The Phantom's here!" "The Phantom of the Opera is with us!" "It's the ghost…!" "Oh my _God_!"

Piangi looked up furiously. "You _eediots_!" He then rushed over to Carlotta's side, trying to calm her down as much he could possibly do and making sure she was not hurt in any way. "Cara! Cara! Are you hurt? Is no one concerned for our Prima Dona?" Lefevre was taken by surprise by everything as well. "Signora! Are you all right? Buquet? Where's Buquet? Get that man down here!" He addressed Andre and Firmin. "Chief of the flies. He's responsible for this."

The drop was raised high enough to reveal upstage, an old stagehand holding a length of rope in the form of a noose. Buquet was dressed in a ragged, dirty suit that was torn in some places. His white shirt hung out, making him look even more informal than the rest of the people in the area. His eyes were almost albinos; his right one fixed up while the left looked straight, and his hair seemed to be everywhere. His face looked as though it hadn't been washed in weeks, and his stance was off only somewhat. He was definitely on the crazy side of the mental scale.

Lefevre became aggravated. "Buquet, for God's sake, man, what's going on up there?" Buquet looked rather puzzled at the retired manager and spoke in a mad voice. "Pleeease, Monsieurrr, don't look at meh: as God's my witness I was not at my post. Pleeease, Monsieurrr, therre's no one therrre: and if therre iss, well then, it _must_ beeeee… A GHOSTAH…!" His eyed became wider, and his mouth seemed to slide down his beaten face.

Meg Giry began to quiver slightly where she stood and gazed fearfully up at the upper platform where Buquet would control the scenery drops and curtains. "He's there: the Phantom of the opera…." Andre was becoming annoyed at this 'Phantom' business. "Good heavens! Will you show a little courtesy?" Firmin addressed Meg and the others around her. "Mademoiselle, please!" Andre focused his attention on the shaken-up Carlotta, who was now calming down after the intense moment. "These things do happen." Carlotta turned to the soon-to-be new assistant manager and with a furious tone, attacked him verbally.

"You think you are _so _smart! Do you know _how many times_ these things have happened? TOO MANY TIMES! Si! These things _do_ happen! Well, until you stopah these things from happening, _this_ thing does _not_ happen! Ubaldo! _Andiamo_!" Piangi dutifully fetched her furs from a room right next to the stage and handed them to her. She wrapped them around her neck and left with him by her side. Piangi glanced backwards at the new managers. "Amateurs!"

Lefevre watched as the couple left then looked back at Andre and Firmin with a smirk across his face. "I don't think there's much more to assist you, gentlemen. Good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Frankfurt." With that remark, he quickly left, leaving the rest of the company to anxiously wait for instructions from the new managers. Andre tried to boost the confidence level back up. "La Carlotta will be back." Just then, Madame Giry approached Firmin and him, while holding out a piece of parchment.

"You think so Messieurs? I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost." The girls began to twitter and twirl in fear, while Christine backed up behind Meg. Upon hearing the word 'ghost', Firmin acted as though something exciting had just happened. "A ghost!? I mean… God in heaven, you're all obsessed!" Giry's eyes widened at his reaction, as if she shared the same 'enthusiasm', but went into explaining the situation better. "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due."

"His salary?" Firmin appeared utterly confused and disturbed. Giry went on to explain further. "Monsieur Lefevre paid him twenty francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Chagny as your patron." The ballet girls started to whisper to each other in delight, but Christine clung to Meg nervously. Andre looked upset with Giry. "Madame, I had hope to have made that announcement myself." Giry eyed Firmin. "Will the Vicomte be at the performances tonight, Monsieur?" Firmin proudly answered back as he pointed to the observation box on his left. "In our box."

Realizing the current and urgent situation, Andre changed the topic to the production of Hannibal. "Madame, who is the understudy for this role?" Reyer replied to the question uncomfortably. "There is no understudy, Monsieur- the production is new."

"Christine Daae could sing it sir." Meg had taken a few steps towards the small group with a large smile imprinted across her sweet face. There was a sense of eagerness about all of it as well. Firmin gazed at her doubtfully. "The chorus girl?" Meg nodded in excitement. "She's been taking lessons from a great teacher." This time it was Andre's turn to become confused, and he eyed Christine with interest. "With whom?" All Christine could do was stare down at the floor; she had become uneasy and couldn't even look anyone in the eyes. "I… I don't know sir…."

Firmin shook his head because he didn't know what to think anymore. "Oh, not you as well!" He moved to stare Andre in his face. "Can you believe it? A full house- and we have to cancel!" Giry immediately jumped into the outrageous situation once more to try and settle everyone down. "Let her sing for you, Monsieur. She has been well taught."

Reyer couldn't believe his ears, but decided not to question her request. After a short pause, he finally gave in. "From the beginning of the aria then, Mam'selle."

Christine just stood there, dumb-founded and frightened. Madame Giry gave her a slight nod as Meg mouthed the words "go for it". Andre and Firmin were waiting a bit impatiently, and the rest of the company stood around silently, waiting to see whether or not she would even sing. Christine slowly moved upstage from her current position and stopped just behind Reyer who was exchanging instructions with the conductor. The conductor raised his baton, and a second later, the orchestra began to play the introduction to the number. Christine sang, but everyone could tell she was nervous; she rarely held out a note longer than one beat.

"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try…."

"Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves." Firmin was becoming very uptight and impatient with her, so Andre tried to calm him down. "Don't fret, Firmin." Almost immediately, Christine began to put even more emotion into the song as her nervousness lifted. Her body became looser, and her voice flew into the heavens.

"When you fi-ind, that once again to lo-ong to take your heart back and be fre-ee- if you ever find a mo-oment, spare a thought for me-e…."

------

Every seat in the opera house was taken; not one was empty. On stage, Christine was nearly floating across the stage as though she was weightless. Her voice- the audience was awe-struck and amazed at the beauty and crispness of it. The Gala appeared to be running even better than once was thought.

"We never sa-aid our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the se-ea, but if you can sti-ill reme-mbah-er, stop and think of me-e! Think o-of all the things we've shared and see-een- don't think about the way things might have be-e-en… Think of me, think of me wa-aking, si-ilent and resi-igned. Imagine me-e, trying to hard to pu-ut you from my mi-ind. Recall those da-ays, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do-o- there will never be-e a da-ay, when I won't think of you-u-u-u-u-u!"

The whole theatre applauded and cheered at the spectacular performance that was unraveling. Up in the managers' box, Box Six, a young man was sitting and gazing helplessly at Christine. He was wearing a suit like the managers, but his skin tone was much darker. His shoulder length black hair shone brilliantly in the light coming from both the stage and the back of the box. This had to be the Vicomte de Chagny, but why did he look so much like Tucker Foley? He shook his head back and forth as though to gain back lost control, but it seemed to fail as he stared surprisingly at Christine again.

"Can… can it be? Can it be…? Christine Daae?" He raised his opera glasses away from his youthful brown eyes to bet a better glance at the girl below. "Bravo! You have changed so much! It seems so long ago that we were once so innocent… My God!" He lowered the glasses over his eyes as tremendous excitement flourished through him. "She may not remember me, but I truly remember her…."

Flowers fa-ade, the fruits of summer fa-ade, they have their sea-easons so do we-e- but please promise me-e that so-ometi-imes, you will think o-o-o-o-of o-o-o-o-of o-o-o-o-o-o-o-of, O-O-O-O-O-O-O-OF ME-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E!"


	3. A Secret Witheld

Chapter 3: A Secret Witheld

There was not one member of the audience who wasn't on their feet applauding Christine as she took her final bows. The performance had come to an end, and it seemed it had been a fantastic one indeed! Two men in formal attire approached her from both sides of the stage and handed her a bouquet of flowers. She accepted them joyously and blew her final kiss goodbye as the curtains closed in front of her. The ballet girls swarmed around, congratulating her for a magnificent show. Christine gave each of them a flower from her bouquet. She was able to catch Reyer's eyes as he stiffly gave his approval. Just then, Madame Giry approached the small crowd.

"Yes, you did well. He will be pleased." Giry addressed Christine with a smile upon her face, but quickly turned her attention on the girls as her smile faded from view. "And you! You were a disgrace tonight! Such _ronds de jambe_! Such _temps de cuisse_! Here- we rehearse. Now!" She furiously slammed her cane against the floor to further emphasize her point. The girls immediately settled into a rehearsal as Giry kept time with her stick.

Quietly and slowly, Christine moved away from the dancers towards her dressing room. Uncertainty was drawn all across her face as though a secret was eating her away. Unknowingly to her, Meg had separated from the rehearsing group without anyone knowing, and was now following behind her. She had become curious as to what her friend had been up to these past few months and why she had improved greatly over such a short period of time. Christine stopped in front of her dressing room and was about to open the doors when she just froze all movement. A dark and deep voice called out of nowhere, but only she could hear it.

"Brava, brava, bravissimi…."

She had become so bewildered by it that she just starred into an empty space. Meg, unaware of what had just occurred, poked Christine on the shoulder. "Christine?" She caught her friend completely by surprise. Christine swung herself around and nearly broke the door down as she leaped backward and was taken out of her trance. She gasped and placed her right hand over her rapidly beating heart while her left arm and back were almost glued to the door.

"Oh my… Meg, you nearly killed me!" She began to relax her body and moved herself away from the door, but she was still pretty tense. Meg's face lit up at the sight of her successful mate. "I'm truly sorry for that…." She broke off into a miniature rant. " Where in the world have you been hiding? Really, you were perfect! I only wish I knew your secret! Who is this new tutor?"

Christine became excited and seemed very abstract in a way that Meg couldn't even describe. She took hold of the doorknobs tightly, still gazing in Meg's eyes. "Father once spoke of an angel… I used to dream he'd appear… Now as I sing, I can sense him… And I know he's here!" Opening the doors, she burst into her dressing room as Meg followed suit. The trance-like state returned as the eccentricity continued. "Here in the room he calls me softly… somewhere inside… hiding… Somehow I know he's always with me… he- the unseen genius…."

Meg was becoming uneasy around Christine as she continued to speak in circles. "Christine, you must have been dreaming… stories like this can't come true… You're talking in riddles… This isn't like you at all!" Nothing she said seemed to be heard by Christine, for she didn't reply to anything at all. Her ecstatic state just continued to grow as she started to communicate with an invisible presence.

"Angel of Music! Guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory! Angel of Music! Hide no longer! Secret and strange angel!" Without directly facing or even looking at Meg, she spoke to her a bit darkly, still in her little trance. "He's with me even now…." Meg was bewildered and gazed at her friend with worry all the while holding her pale hands. "Your hands are cold…." Christine's face turned extremely pale; she now resembled a ghostly figure. "All around me…." Meg took note of this right away and became fearful about what her best friend was going through. "You're face Christine, it's white…." Fright filled Christine's violet eyes, as they became darker. "It frightens me…." Meg tried to reassure her there was nothing to be afraid of. "Don't be frightened."

Just then the dressing doors swung open, revealing an angered Madame Giry. Christine and Meg turned away from each other and gazed straight ahead as Giry looked at her daughter with disgust. "Meg Giry. Are you a dancer? Then come and practice." Meg glanced over at Christine who gave her a glance back, then turned and left the room to join the other girls. "Practice, practice… That's all we ever do…." Giry's eyed followed her as she disappeared around the corner. Of course, it wasn't the absence from the rehearsing session that was the main cause of her becoming so upset. She was worried that Meg might become involved in a problem that she wished had never existed: the predicament that Christine was in right now was what was so troubling. Only the two of them knew the full details, but Meg could catch on pretty quickly if she wanted to. This was why Giry tried with everything she had to keep her daughter from spending too much time around Christine.

"My dear, I was asked to give you this." Giry pulled out a folded piece of paper as she turned around to face Christine. Her deep blue eyes shimmered in the candlelight as they met the darkened pupils of the young singer. She held out her hand to Christine, and she took it cautiously, still looking at Giry blankly. The ballet mistress then made her way out the opened doors and closed them gently behind her. Christine starred down at the unopened paper for a few moments wondering what it contained within. She took a seat in her chair in front of the vanity table and slowly broke the seal that bound it shut. Opening it all the way, she began to read the mysterious letter, knowing exactly whom it was from.

"A red scarf… the attic… Little Lotte…." Just then she realized an object just sitting in front of the small mirror on the table. It was a bright red rose, a black bow tied around it with another small note attached. She gently took the piece of parchment and opened it. It read: "Congratulations" and signed: Your Angel of Music"….


	4. Angel in the Mirror

Chapter 4: Angel in the Mirror

A celebration was underway within the wings of the opera house behind the stage. Stagehands, actors, and actresses alike proudly realized the success of the night's gala and the performance of the brilliant Christine Daae. It certainly was a joyous time for all of those hard-working people, especially for the new managers. Andre and Firmin, along with Raoul and Madame Firmin, made their way through the crowd towards Christine's dressing room, the managers in high spirits. In their hands they carried a few bottles of champagne, wanting to celebrate in style.

"A _tour de force_! No other way to describe it!" Andre looked at Firmin with a smile embedded on his long face. Firmin couldn't believe that their audience had adored the young soprano so much. "What a relief! Not a single refund!" His wife shook her head at her husband's comment. "Greedy."

They continued to push their way through and approach the elaborately handcrafted wooden doors that concealed the dressing room. Andre was still as merry as could be on the behalf of Christine's performance. "Richard, I think we've made quite the discovery in Miss Daae!" Coming to a halt in the middle of the hallway, Firmin directed Raoul to the doors beside him. "Here we are, Monsieur le Vicomte." The anxious Vicomte then snatched his champagne bottle from his hands as he made his way over to the area. "Gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind. This is one visit I should prefer to make unaccompanied." Andre, along with the other two, bowed and moved away quickly. "As you wish, Monsieur." Firmin suspected that Raoul and Christine had obviously encountered each other in the past. "They appear to have met before…."

Raoul knocked upon the right door a few times before he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Just standing in the middle of the room and starring blankly at the wall was Christine who had been startled slightly by the sudden intrusion. She had changed into a white gown for the night and planned on having a nice long sleep. The Vicomte became excited to finally see her after several years of waiting. "Christine Daae, where's your scarf?" The young mistress didn't take her gaze away from the spot she was looking, but answered anyway. "Monsieur?"

"You can't have lost it. After all the trouble I took. I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin…." He seemed to be playing around just a little to gain her attention. After all, he hadn't seen her in five years, and was eager to meet the 'new' Christine. She herself soon realized who had come in without her consent. "Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf. Oh, Raoul. So it _is_ you!" She turned to face him as a warm smile engulfed her delicate skin. Both of them ran towards each other and embraced and laughed. Raoul swung Christine around twice before letting her down. She went to sit at her dressing table as inviting memories swarmed around in her mind. Raoul began to move towards her.

"'Little Lotte let her mind wander….'"

"'You remember that too….'"

He continued on with a memory of a time gone by. "'…Little Lotte thought: Am I fonder of dolls….'" Christine decided to join in as reminiscence from the past might calm her nerves. "'…Or of goblins of shoes….'" Her face began to regain some color as she went on. "'…Or of riddles of frocks….'"

Raoul placed his hands over hers and never removed his eyes from the orbs at the other end. "Those picnics in the attic… 'or of chocolates….'"

Christine's gaze was forced in the small mirror resting on the table. "Father playing the violin…."

He then moved his eyes to stare into the reflective glass as well. "As we read to each other dark stories of the North…."

Christine's face and nerves had returned to a much more normal state, but it wouldn't be long until they reverted back. "'No – what I love best, Lotte said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head!'" She turned in her chair to face Raoul as he looked back at her. This time, however, she began to feel a little uneasy. "Father said 'When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you!' Well, father is dead, Raoul, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music." Raoul's face brightened and he straightened himself up as he continued to gaze upon Christine. "No doubt about it – And now, we'll go to supper!"

Christine's color started to disappear and turn exceptionally pale, her heart beating faster by the second. "No, Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict."

Raoul thought she was just playing with him, so he didn't catch anything behind what she was saying and just continued on. "I shan't keep you up late!" Christine became even more nervous. "No, Raoul…." He wouldn't listen to her at all and hurried out the doors. "_You _must change. _I_ must get my hat. Two minutes – Little Lotte." He disappeared with Christine throwing herself out of the chair, calling after him in hysteria. "Raoul!"

As soon as he was gone, a mysterious dark figure lurked outside the dressing room doors, turning a key that sat in the key hole and locking the doors in the process. He disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared.

The large mirror on the wall just reflected the image of Christine and the whole room for that matter. The candlelight glimmered against its mysterious surface that seemed to hide a secret it only knew. The shaken mistress appeared even paler in the reflection, but it showed the true reality behind the matter; something indeed was troubling her so. The mirror could see within Christine's mind and didn't fail to reveal the knowledge it so openly obtained. Christine moved back towards the table and picked the rose up once more, stroking the soft velvet that gently pressed against her cool skin. The mirror saw it all and didn't hesitate to allow the mistress to view her ghostly self. It revealed Christine dropping the rose out of nowhere, her body frozen in fear as the candles began to flicker and die, except for the one that turned an iridescent green right next to the crystal ball-like glass on the wall. A deep and dark voice furiously echoed through the whole room, apparently breaking in from behind the mirror….

"**Insolent boy! This slave of fashion, basking in **_**your**_** glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in **_**my**_** triumph!**"

By now, it appeared that the mirror was now enticing Christine to the point where she had no control over her actions. The enigma of where the voice came from baffled her into a deeper spellbound state. All thoughts had vanished because her mind was focused on the voice, a familiar one at that. She looked all around the room for the source, but with no avail.

"Angel! I hear you! Oh, speak again – I listen… Stay by my side, guide me! Angel, my soul was weak – oh, please forgive me… Enter at last, Master!"

A smile slowly formed and embraced her pale face as she hopefully gazed away from the mirror right behind her. Her violet eyes appeared so soulless. She was waiting for this 'angel' to respond, and at last, it did so.

"**Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide! Look at your face in the mirror – I am there inside!**"

Obeying the voice, Christine hypnotically turned around to face the cold glass upon the wall. Within seconds a figure surfaced, but this was certainly not one of Christine. It was of a young male of smooth snow-white hair and glowing fire red eyes. A white mask concealed most of his face, so only a cold smile and his chin were visible along with his hypnotic eyes. He wore a long black cape that lay over his shoulders and fell just above the floor. Underneath was an opened dark gray suit that exposed a black shirt with a white neckline that held a strange white letter 'D' embedded in the chest area. A white belt wrapped around his waist where a pair of black pants began, and fell just above a pair of white shoes. His hands were in pure white gloves that perfectly matched his shirt, shoes, and even his hair. An eerie white glow emitted from every part of the young man's body, drawing Christine's attention even more. Thinking that this was in fact a reflection from within, she turned around again and gazed towards the ceiling, hoping to perhaps see her 'angel' appear there. The image, however, didn't change.

"Angel of Music! My guide and guardian! Grant to me your glory! Angel… hide no longer! Come to me, strange angel…." Her ecstatic state showed no signs of leaving as the voice from behind the mirror spoke again, this time luring Christine towards it like a child who yearns to see her long lost father. It was truly intimidating.

"**I am your Angel… Come to me: Angel of Music….**" Christine followed the sound of the voice and nearly bumped right into the glowing, shimmering glass upon the wall.

Just outside the room Raoul had returned to escort the young mistress to a celebratory supper. He froze in front of the doors in shock and completely puzzled as he heard the strange voices from within. Becoming very worried, he tried to open the doors but found them locked up. "Whose is that voice…? Christine? Who _is_ that in there…?" He frantically kept trying to open them, but they wouldn't budge an inch.

Back inside the figure in the mirror phased his right hand and arm through the glass and grabbed Christine's shaking hand firmly, but not fiercely. "**I am your Angel of Music… Come to me: Angel of Music….**" Immediately she turned invisible, more than likely by the ghastly figure, and before she knew it, she found herself going through the mirror and to the other side where the mysterious fellow stood. She became solid again and followed him into the darkness of a hidden labyrinth. The doors of the dressing room suddenly unlocked and swung open, taking Raoul by surprise. He ran inside to find the room strangely empty as he looked all around for any sign of Christine or the other person or thing that seemed to be present just moments ago.

"Christine! Angel!"


	5. Journey Through the Labyrinth

Chapter 5: Journey Through the Labyrinth

Candles glistened along the strange narrow corridor that led from behind the dressing room to a place unknown. The stone floor was damp in some places, and occasionally a random rat would scamper across the ground and disappear into a hole within the cold stone wall. The flames flickered while emitting an illumination that caused the human heart to skip a beat every now and again. Without the light, however, the labyrinth would become the most dismal and life-sucking place anyone could have step foot in. The only sounds that could be heard were the distant dripping of water and the footsteps that echoed all throughout.

Still in a deep trance, Christine hypnotically followed behind the figure that had phased her through the mirror and into this mysterious place. Her left hand was still clasping his right one as they turned a corner and headed down a set of stone stairs. Occasionally this 'Phantom' would glance backwards to face Christine, making sure that she continued to follow and kept safe. He would look straight into her blank violet eyes with his glowing red ones whenever he did so. Several of his features as well as some of his clothing could be paired exactly up with Daniel Fenton, or in this case more than not, Danny Phantom….

The amount of illumination from the surrounding candles diminished as they became less frequent along the path, so the Phantom had to hold out his free hand as a reddish glow emitted from it and lit the pathway ahead. Christine followed right behind him, her steps in sync with her abductor's as they continued to decline in altitude into the strange abyss. Her mind was empty of all deep thoughts, but she was conscious enough to gaze from one side to the other every once in a while, just to see where she was. Nothing but a pale complexion could be seen all over her body. Whenever her eyes met the red orbs in front of her, she would get a rush of a cool sensation running throughout her timid body, but at the same time feel safe and comfortable being around their owner. Her feet moved helplessly as the journey continued.

At the end of the passage was a mist-covered lake that filed into another path that seemed wider than the one the two had just traveled along. A total of three flights of stone steps, plus some descending slopes along the way had finally led Christine and the Phantom down into the secret depths of the opera house. Without a word, the Phantom stopped in his tracks and led Christine onto a small gondola that was just sitting on top of the glassy waters like a lily pad. Christine never once turned around to look at him, and before she knew it, she was sitting silently within the boat as the Phantom stepped in himself. An eerie greenish light came from the two lanterns hanging from both sides of a skull carved into the bow that lit several feet in front of them. Candelabras here and there were conveniently placed upon the stone walls that surrounded the lake as far as the eye could see. It was certainly the oddest thing anyone had ever seen….

The Phantom placed his right hand over the inner side of the gondola and his hand began to glow red. A long black pole rose from the area and he grasped it with his hand. On top of it was a small, detailed carving of a human skull and just below that the same strange 'D' in white that was present upon the Phantom's chest. He hovered above the ground and landed right behind Christine in the boat. His left hand made its way above his right, and he began to guide the gondola across the underground body of water with the pole. A cold smirk glided its way across the only exposed part of his face, his red eyes every so often finding their way to the young beauty sitting in front. In the back of his twisted mind he knew that he was winning her love, but more by manipulation and bribes. Yes, he truly loved Christine, but he had to have her fall head over heals for him in some way. Why he went through all of the trouble he was putting forth for her love was anyone's guess. Surely a man of his skills couldn't have any problems with finding a mate….

Faint beams of moon light trickled their way through the barred windows from high above the labyrinth, allowing for some natural illumination to fill the unforgiving place. Christine was too mesmerized to even notice this small detail as her attention was focused on their final destination. The water swished and swayed around the boat, but calmed down after it had passed by. Neither Christine nor the Phantom heard anything more than the water lapping against the sides of the gondola and the occasional echoing of distant outside noises ricocheting off of the stonewalls surrounding the lake. Otherwise, all was silent as they continued gliding along the water.

The Phantom steered the small boat around a wide bend. A few moments later a large, rusty iron portcullis appeared in view, protecting a strange area. Two red auroras surrounded his eyes and several large candelabras began to rise from the murky waters behind the metal barrier. Christine glared at them with awe as a voice from behind, almost in a whisper, spoke to her gently.

"Sing, my angel of music."

With those words from the Phantom, she opened her mouth and sang a series of notes only a true soprano could reach. The sweet melody seemed to satisfy the Phantom's request because the candles suddenly burst into life, even though some were still submerged underwater.

"Sing…."

Her singing became more ecstatic, but it pleased the Phantom so well. With a gesture from his left hand, the portcullis rose up and disappeared from sight. He lifted the pole out of the water and let the boat gently drift until it met the slope that led from the water to the stone floor of a mysterious area. All around the place a couple dozen candelabras, already lit and glowing fiercely, stood tall and illuminated every dark corner and crevice. Numerous sheets of music, a few feather pens and ink holders rested upon a small table right beside a set of four steps that led up to a separate platform. A pipe organ sat on top of that, but it was a bit smaller than the average church organ. It was obvious that this was where the Phantom wrote his own music and performed different existing musical pieces as well as his own inventions. Next to this, on the main level, was a separate room that contained another table with a book written by 'Ghostwriter' on top, a coffin-like bed, and an old throne with amazing details and an inscription reading 'Pariah Dark' along the head. To the opposite side, particularly hidden by a semi-transparent black drape existed a door that led into a smaller room. Here, there was a couch made to sleep upon, all neatly made and apparently had never been touched. Placed next to that was a music box in the shape of a barrel organ with a monkey wearing a robe and holding cymbals on top. All throughout the lair scattered shelves with books by the same 'Ghostwriter', tables, and even some old props and statues sat to help create the strange atmosphere that engulfed the place.

Christine kept on singing as the Phantom dropped the pole back to its proper place and exited the boat. He took off his cape and threw it to the side where it landed on top of a statue of a dark knight in armor riding his horse in triumph. Only the knight's eyes could be seen, as if he didn't have a true face to speak of. The Phantom became even more excited as Christine continued her strange solo.

"Sing, my angel of music!"

The candles that had yet to illuminate the still dark areas were brought to life at each note. He held his hand out to Christine, who in turn took it without any hesitation, but never ceased to sing. Making sure she was safe, he led her out of the gondola and onto the cold floor as he floated above it himself. The Phantom backed up, his arms flying out to both sides with uncontrollable excitement filling every inch of his ghastly body.

"_Sing for me_!"

With that, Christine let out a soft, yet extremely high-pitched note: an 'E' above the treble clef staff on any piece of music. The last of the candles had become lit, and a huge wall was created from a green flame that burst from each one and was forcefully sent into the air before disappearing, but the flames kept on burning like normal as Christine stopped and closed her mouth. The lair was now filled with anticipation; a tense moment lay between the two occupants.


	6. The Lair

Chapter 6: The Lair

All the candles were now shining brightly and revealed the true nature of the lair: a mysterious and enticing location that would draw anyone in with its luring characteristics. A lively stream of sunlight had now replaced the little bit of moonlight that had tried to penetrate the immense darkness, but even that was in a too small amount to bring the place completely to life. The organ strongly dominated over every other object, especially since all the light was focused upon its brilliant surface. It's black color sparkled silently, while the black and white keys sent radiating eerie notes out from the unique metallic pipes that majestically glistened each time a candle flickered.

The Phantom was still floating above the ground, looking down upon Christine who was looking back up at him. He turned around all the while keeping his cold gaze upon the young mistress as he wanted to make sure she was safe. Slowly moving his head last, he starred straight at his instrument and flew until he was in front of it. The Phantom spoke after a long silence between the two of them, addressing Christine as he did so.

"I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne… to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music…." His arms that had been against his sides swiftly rose up and spread out into the vacant space around him as his feet silently met with the hard floor beneath him. Christine just looked at him with her empty eyes, waiting for her ghostly angel to finish his small presentation. The Phantom gently spun around once more, this time facing his beloved Christine.

"You have come here, for one purpose and one alone..." He made slight gestures with his arms and hands for her to see. "Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me, to serve me, to sing, for my music…."

He signaled for Christine to approach him by moving his right index finger back forth. She obeyed, and soon she found herself walking up the handful of stone steps to the platform on which the Phantom stood. For a few brief moments they just starred at one another while the he gently caressed her face with his cold hands. Knowing that Christine was with him once more sent warm sensations throughout his body. The small twinkle that remained in her eyes planted a warm smile across his cool face and her overall presence gave his nearly heartless soul more life than ever before. There was something hidden within her mind that he could only see as he glared into her nearly lifeless eyes that seemed very familiar to him, but he couldn't figure out the reason why that was so. He lightly placed his cold hands upon Christine's delicate shoulders and slowly spun her around so that her back was facing towards him. His arms found their way around her and his hands gently rubbed her whole abdominal area before his right hand took hers and rose up to touch his mask. As Christine placed her left hand on top of his, which was still around her waist, he moved the hand on the mask down along it and stopped just below the area where his skin was exposed and kept it there for a few seconds longer.

"Touch me… Trust me…."

Christine, feeling a sense of security and taking in the cool, yet soft sensations of his touch, closed her eyes and allowed the Phantom to do as he pleased. She felt her right arm drop just a bit, her hand still in his. When she opened her eyes she found herself looking into his glowing red ones that were looking back at her and being led down the other set of steps to a large object that sat a few feet from the bottom. It was covered in a dustcover that gathered where it hit the floor, but stood silently in the duo's wake. Mesmerized, Christine watched the Phantom pull the sheet off to reveal an antique mirror whose frame was a dull brown, but was beautifully crafted. The mirror was not like any other for the glass did not seem to reflect much of anything. Instead an exact replica of Christine sat behind it wearing an elegant wedding gown and holding a bouquet of bright red roses. Believing that this was her actual reflection, she moved closer to the image. The dummy appeared to 'reach' out to her at that moment and took Christine by surprise. She fainted, only to be caught within the arms of the Phantom who seemed to have expected her reaction all along.

The Phantom made sure he held her safely before flying off towards the couch that was well made up. As he began to place Christine on the bed, the covers flew out from underneath, allowing him to place her down gently. He caressed her face one last time, then backed away as the sheets covered her carefully. His eyes never left her limp body even as he floated away. With a slight wave of his right hand light semi-transparent drape closed and fell to the floor around the couch. A smile appeared across his face as the candles continued to burn fiercely and whatever little sunlight was able to pierce through the barred windows reflected beautifully and mysteriously off the lake.


	7. Curiosity and the Mask

Chapter 7: Curiosity and the Mask

The sun had long since set, only to have risen once more upon the underground world. Morning streams of light still had trouble defeating the everlasting darkness, but the dancing flames had a decent grasp on the situation. Nothing had appeared to change within the lair since the day before, nor did it seem much was happening at the moment. A stray beam of illumination from the sun had somehow surpassed the power of the darkness and found it's way to the delicate face of a sleeping Christine, who hadn't awoken since the small episode the day before. She stirred as a soothing melody mysteriously began to play from the music box sitting just to the right of the bed. The figure of a brown monkey perched on top clapped its small hands together to the beat, each one holding a brass cymbal that made not a sound as they touched. Its velvet red Persian robe fell to the back of the velvet red box. The feet were crossed and barely made contact with the brass lining around the edges that contained some simple, yet intriguing carvings. The whole box seemed to sparkle in the minimal amount of light that hit it, almost giving it a slight ringing sound to it.

Christine awoke to the hypnotic song, trying to remember where she was. A large rope with several thick strands of yarn hanging off the end hung from the stone ceiling and was apparently attached to the curtain in front of her. She sat up and reached over to pull the rope, ultimately causing the black drape to open and rise at a diagonal. Once the rest of the lair was exposed through the door that had swung open at that same moment, the music ceased to play and the monkey froze in time. Christine gently pushed the covers off of her and stood up observing the area she was in. Her attention shifted to the other sections of the lair, as well as the faint memories of the morning before.

"I remember there was mist… swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake…" In a half trance, she slowly walked forward through the doorway, looking at an angle to her left at the shimmering water. "There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat… and in the boat there was a man…." She stopped just shy of the set of steps closest to the bedroom and glanced over to her right where the Phantom was sitting at his organ. He was dressed in a very decorative robe and was concentrating on writing a piece of music for he had a feather quill in his right hand and a sheet of parchment in front of him. Christine began to climb the steps as the Phantom wrote down a series of notes and chords, and whispered to herself. "Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is the face in the mask?" Not being noticed by the Phantom, she stood by his side, gazing deeply at his mask. She reached for it a few times, but pulled her hand away as he almost caught her doing so. At last, she succeeded in tearing the mask off his face, and now realizing her presence, the Phantom sprung up and rounded on her furiously. She fell backward, the mask tossed aside. His face had now been revealed to her completely.

"_Darn you_! You little prying _Pandora_! You little demon- _is this what you wanted to see_?" He was enraged by her actions and his eyes glowed a furious red. He threw a red ectoblast from one of his glowing hands, intentionally missing Christine as he did. Even so, she backed up a few times before leaning against a large statue of a strong looking dragon wearing an odd necklace and a crown. Everything seemed to be happening so fast that she could barely comprehend what was taking place. Fright rapidly overcame her and tears ran down her soft cheeks as she kept her gaze upon the Phantom. He released several more fiery blasts from his hands.

"_Curse you_! You little lying _Delilah_! You little viper- _now you cannot ever be free_! _Darn you_… _Curse you_…." One last ectoblast hit the floor right at Christine's feet, making her jump in terror. The Phantom then fell to his hands and knees, both shocked and upset by his reaction towards her. He began to crawl up to her with his right hand, pausing here and there, as his other was trying to cover up his face that was now in shadow.

"Stranger than you dreamt it- can you even dare to look or bare to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in heck, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly… secretly… But, Christine… Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcass who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly… secretly… Oh, Christine…."

Christine's fear had diminished and a feeling of sympathy replaced it. She looked at him, and then glanced over at the mask that was just lying there as though it had been a spectator to the confrontation of the two of them. Cautiously crawling over she picked it up and handed it to the Phantom who was now just several inches away from her. He took it and placed it back onto his face as his eyes returned to normal. Christine observed him standing up, and did the same a moment later. She wiped away her tears from her eyes and just starred at him as he spoke to her once more.

"Come we must return- those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you!" He threw his robe off and put his cape back around his shoulders before taking Christine by the hand and leading her back to the boat.


	8. Giry's Warning

Chapter 8: Giry's Warning

The air was stagnant and tension flooded the atmosphere backstage. Miscellaneous props and unfinished sets rested all over the place, giving off a sense of carelessness and havoc. Several ballet girls, including little Meg, were glancing all around and talking to one another as though expecting something to happen. They were still in their practice outfits, obviously taking a break from their rehearsal in hopes of experiencing something more exciting. Their attention was drawn to a particular dark corner just behind the divider that separated that area from the main part of the stage. A shadowy figure wearing a black cape appeared from out of nowhere clutching his hands around what appeared to be a long piece of rope in the form of a noose. The girls jumped in excitement and fright as he crept closer to them. A few of them screeched as the figure threw off the cape and revealed a maniacal smirk. He was none other than Joseph Buquet demonstrating how to protect oneself from the Phantom's deadly weapon. His normal eye carefully examined the anxious dancers while the other looked out into a random area.

"Like yellah parchment is his skeen. A great black hole served as the nose that nevah grew…" Buquet, with his frightening, maniacal ways, moved his available hand over his face, producing an image the girls could only imagine. He then grabbed the noose with both hands and began to place it around his neck. "You must be always on your guard, or he will catch ya with his magical lasso!" The noose was pulled taught just after he cleverly stuck both of his coarse hands in between his dirty neck and the rough rope. All of the girls applauded and whispered to each other in major awe. Meg, however, felt a bit weary about the presentation and what it may entitle Buquet in the end.

Just behind them in the still darkness of the stage area another dark figure lurked from within the shadows. The real Phantom had appeared from nowhere, it seemed, leading Christine to wherever it was they were headed. He looked at Buquet performing his work and immediately let out a soft growl as his eyes glowed a fiery red for a moment there. Meg noticed an unknown shadow appear from behind and let out a light scream of surprise and terror as, causing the other girls to disperse from the site. The Phantom acknowledged a small area near the spot Buquet was occupying before sweeping his cape around Christine and disappearing as suddenly as he had come.

Madame Giry had been observing the whole thing from behind an unfinished set piece and knew that Buquet was dangerously putting his life in jeopardy. As soon as the Phantom had entered, she knew he was there. After all, he had written her a letter two days before, explaining to her his motives and plans. Giry was a sensible woman who knew her place in the whole affair. Even though she was strong willed, her fear of the ghastly presence that haunted the opera house held her back from going against any of his wishes.

She walked up to Buquet who had by now taken the noose off of his neck and was holding it in his left hand. Her deep blue-green dress glided along the floor behind her, her usual cane in her left hand. Buquet glared at her with his only good eye as she halted right in front of him.

"Those who speak of what the know find, too late, that prudent silence is wise. Joseph Buquet, hold your tongue-…" At that moment Giry slapped Buquet across his filthy face so hard and loud that he thought everyone in the building had indeed heard it. "…He will burn you with the heat of his eyes…." Her eyes spoke of a desperate warning as they met those of his. She then spun around in haste and walked back to the dance rehearsal, leaving Buquet alone with his rope and a large red mark upon his unwashed face.


End file.
